Zombies, horror films, books, and an intense love of animals. These four things pretty much sum up everything you'll ever need to know about me.


I’ve been trying to write on here more lately, like I once used to, but I usually don’t have anything to say. Which I find strange because during any other time I always have an endless stream of thoughts in my head. But the moment I sit down to write, nothing comes to mind, aside from stupid crap. Like right now. All I can think to talk about is how disgustingly humid it is in my room. Everything, including my blankets, feels sticky and gross. And don’t even get me started on my pores. I wish I had a little inflatable baby pool filled with cold water in my room. That’s probably the next best thing to an AC, which I don’t have the luxury of owning.

And in case anyone is curious, the humidity is currently 95% on Long Island. With my luck, my parents will have no choice but to peel me from my bed come morning

So a very, very long time ago, I met this girl in a chat room and we instantly connected. We pretty much were the same person, down to our birthdays, and we kept in touch for a while until she dropped off the radar. Going through these old posts now, I found an inbox message from her and was saddened to find her Tumblr account is no longer active. But from Google, I was able to find her Twitter account which she updates regularly. Now I don’t use Twitter because I never know what to say. I had one a few times, but it always went unused. But now I feel like making one all over again just to follow her and pick up where our friendship left off. And also because I went through a lot of her tweets/ photos like a creep and found her both hilarious and beautiful. Sooo yeah, would that be creepy, popping up on her Twitter after all these years?

I had a bad fight with my boyfriend tonight, so I’ve been going through old posts on my Tumblr for no other reason than to wallow in self pity some more.

It’s amazing to me how much I’ve changed in the past four years, and I’m not entirely sure it’s a good thing. Back then I was still the same sad person I am now, but I was a lot more hopeful about life. I had all these seemingly impossible plans. I wanted to travel the world, join the peace corps, adopt kids, and try to lead a life worth living, a life that meant something to others. I don’t remember if I ever thought I’d actually achieve all those things, or if I just wanted some sort of structure in my life at that point because I had gotten out of an emotionally abusive relationship a few months prior. Either way, it makes me a bit sad. I’m so different now, so hardened. And reading all these posts, despite how naive, makes me miss the way I used to be. I wish I could somehow revert back to that person, but after everything I’ve gone through and learned these past four years, I think that’s impossible.

Last night was the first time in a while I had a zombie dream, and I feel paralyzed by it even though it wasn’t that bad. My friend and I were packing to go home from college when the zombie plague hit, and since our dorm had a few zombies milling about, we had to be careful. The worst part was that our rooms were on opposite sides of the building, so we had to separate. I think if I were in this situation for real, I wouldn’t even bother packing anymore, I’d just get the hell out. But my friend was insistent on it.

At one point this dog was in the room with me and kept making noise…and I crushed its muzzle with my bare hands, then left it out in the hallway. I still can’t get its whimpers out of my head. At that exact moment a zombie in a bloody wedding dress (cliche, right?) stepped into the hallway. I only saw her feet, but it was enough to shut the door and lock it. And for some reason, even with it shut and locked, the door was still open just a tiny bit, enough so that the zombie bride could possibly see me if I stood near it. I realized this and moved to the other side of the room. I guess she heard me, though, and she started pushing up against the door. That’s where my dream ended, and like always I woke up confused and too scared to move.

I can’t sleep at night anymore, or rather I don’t want to. I’m not sure what it is I think will happen if I close my eyes, but it’s enough to keep me lying awake. The only times I’ve seemed to get a decent six hours of sleep this week is when I’ve been at my boyfriend’s for the night. As soon as I lay down next him, it’s like I’ve taken a tranquilizer. I wish I could sleep next to him every night just for that simple fact alone.

I’ve spent my 18 years of life trying to be okay with the fact that humans fade in and out of each others’ lives. No matter how I think about it, I can’t make it sound romantic or poetic. To those who have already passed through my life and to those who eventually will: I love you. I miss you. The back door will always be unlocked if you ever feel like coming home.

(Source: dearalexandra)

I will always love 11, but I think 12 is going to be fantastic. I am expecting great things from Peter Capaldi this season. And I can’t wait to see in what direction they take his and Clara’s relationship.

But on a more serious note, when 11 called Clara, I cried like a bitch.

God I hate interviews. It’s still 45 minutes away, but I’m already feeling the nervous stomach aches. Thank god I got back on my meds a week ago. Otherwise the stomach ache would be a lot worse, and I’d be hyperventilating.